A little song that I may never sing—
But oh, the wondrous memory lingering.
And though I never may return until
I clasp your hand beyond these years, why still
There is one guide the path of life along—
A fleeting end of dream-remembered song.
The Spirit of Autumn
Where the winds low list and the leafless trees
Stand gaunt and gray ’gainst the sullen sky,
The naked boughs whisper melodies